All these stories about Larch make me compelled to point out that I was one of the first 1/2 dozen people to pick my room in that brand new building.
The Most Awesome/Stupid Thing You've Ever Done
- Thread starter CyForPresident
- Start date
I must admit I feel compelled to ask if you lived above third floor, and if so, I feel further compelled to inquire as to whether you used the elevator to excess on Saturday nights/Sunday mornings ................................
If so, I think one of us needs to PM the other.:wideeyed:
:wink:
If you were one of the first to pick out your room, what would your logic be? I picked the 5th floor. And of course since Maple and Willow were girls dorms, I had to center myself between those to the greatest extent possible.
If I were to do it today, I'd probably want a south facing window but I guess my priorities have changed. Oh, and to those other two guys, yes I know I am old.
Hmmmmmmmm.
Well, back in the day, still at Larch, I had an aquaintance, (Denny S., was his name), on our floor that was a former member of The Hell's Angels (or so he said). He told anyone who would listen that he had gone to college to get away from the gang.
Denny was a little guy, a shade to the scrawny side, a chiseled, thin drawn but clean shaven face, dark, penetrating small brown/black eyes that darted, ......... but in a "I'm taking in every bit of information possible at this moment" kind of way, not in a furtive way. Think Italian, a 140 pound wrestler, inquisitive, and fearless here.
Denny was the kind of guy that probably would not ever volunteer a friendship, but was someone with whom you definitely wanted to have in your favor, or corner, as it were.
He had a beautiful, huge chopper (it dwarfed him) that he kept in an old white non-descript bread truck, (so that he could keep it out of sight when parked in the East Lot), and equipped the truck with a portable ramp to facilitate easy entrances and exits for his bike.
Denny's room was the last corner room to the north and east, so he could keep an eye on his truck when he felt the need, and as it turned out, he must have kept an eye on that bread truck quite a lot. (Denny was rather faithless when it came to the perceived intentions of his fellow man.)
One night we were sitting in the lounge and we heard what we thought was a firecracker go off down the far end of the hall. We ran down to the end of the hall, knocked on Denny's door and opened it. There was Denny, completely stretched out (horizontal to the floor) of the window to where only a little less than half of his body was in the room (and you know why, because the crank-out window when fully opened, was in direct opposition to the view of the parking lot) and he had a 22 rifle in his hands, a wisp of smoke still continued to curl up from the end of the barrel!
Apparently, someone had gotten a bit too close to the old white non-descript bread truck, and Denny had fired off a round over the head of the perceived offender!
Craaaaaaaaazy! Stuuuuuuuuupid!
He should be ashamed.
Uhhhhh, just kiddin' Denny!!!!!!!
:wideeyed:
Well, back in the day, still at Larch, I had an aquaintance, (Denny S., was his name), on our floor that was a former member of The Hell's Angels (or so he said). He told anyone who would listen that he had gone to college to get away from the gang.
Denny was a little guy, a shade to the scrawny side, a chiseled, thin drawn but clean shaven face, dark, penetrating small brown/black eyes that darted, ......... but in a "I'm taking in every bit of information possible at this moment" kind of way, not in a furtive way. Think Italian, a 140 pound wrestler, inquisitive, and fearless here.
Denny was the kind of guy that probably would not ever volunteer a friendship, but was someone with whom you definitely wanted to have in your favor, or corner, as it were.
He had a beautiful, huge chopper (it dwarfed him) that he kept in an old white non-descript bread truck, (so that he could keep it out of sight when parked in the East Lot), and equipped the truck with a portable ramp to facilitate easy entrances and exits for his bike.
Denny's room was the last corner room to the north and east, so he could keep an eye on his truck when he felt the need, and as it turned out, he must have kept an eye on that bread truck quite a lot. (Denny was rather faithless when it came to the perceived intentions of his fellow man.)
One night we were sitting in the lounge and we heard what we thought was a firecracker go off down the far end of the hall. We ran down to the end of the hall, knocked on Denny's door and opened it. There was Denny, completely stretched out (horizontal to the floor) of the window to where only a little less than half of his body was in the room (and you know why, because the crank-out window when fully opened, was in direct opposition to the view of the parking lot) and he had a 22 rifle in his hands, a wisp of smoke still continued to curl up from the end of the barrel!
Apparently, someone had gotten a bit too close to the old white non-descript bread truck, and Denny had fired off a round over the head of the perceived offender!
Craaaaaaaaazy! Stuuuuuuuuupid!
He should be ashamed.
Uhhhhh, just kiddin' Denny!!!!!!!
:wideeyed:
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Oh man Home Team Pizza... I only did that once, while studying at 3 in the morning.
Freak'n cheap pizza... but for a good reason :wideeyed:
Oh man, Home Team was awesome...I don't know if they still have them, but I used to get this big frickin' pizza that was like two feet wide and it only cost like $6. It was massive, and came with half an inch of grease floating on top. Good stuff! :laugh: Ate a LOT of Pokey Stix too...
-Filled a 55 gal garbage can with water, leaned it up against the closed elevator doors, and called the elevator. As the elevator opened, the can fell into the elevator and drenched everyone inside. Problem was, we didn't think about what happens when you pour 50 gal of water down an elevator shaft. It caused thousands in damage and news stretched as far as the Omaha World Herald of the "Towers Vandals". (I know because my parents got the paper and called me on it.) Didn't get into trouble luckily.
Not sure when you were there, but this was being done in the last half of the '90s, especially out at Towers for some reason. Used to shove burning couches out of the top floor windows too.
Like so many others, I can't tell a lot of my stories, haha...But here's some tame-ish, yet amusing, stories I can remember hearing or being involved with personally:
* When I lived in Friley, up in Bennett House on the fifth floor (only place on campus with all blue colored hallways; not sure if they still are), there was a popular legend about a guy who lived there the year or two prior to my arrival as a Freshman. As the story goes, he slept on the top bunk while his roommate on the bottom bunk, would always have his girlfriend over for "intimate relations" even if he was there up top. The guy told his roommate to knock it off, but he kept doing it, keeping him awake and just generally making things uncomfortable. The RA was informed (he was one who was fond of telling the story), and he told the roommate to quit, but...Nothing changed.
So one night, the roommate and his girl are at it down below like usual, and the guy decided he'd had enough of that crap. He jumped down off the bunk, whipped his junk out up by their faces, and started to go "hands on." Apparently that was the last night that ever happened, and the girl wasn't seen around Bennett House ever again.
* Another Bennett House story...In case you're not familiar, Bennett House, up on Friley's fifth floor, has two bathrooms--and one of them is extremely large. Well, some of the clowns on the floor decided that it'd be a great idea to have a party in the bathroom. They printed up a bunch of fliers and posted them up around Friley and the campus at large. They called it the "Bennett House Bathroom Ball."
So party night comes and they haul some couches into the bathroom, coolers of beer and assorted booze, a big screen TV and a stereo system with the most enormous speakers you've ever seen; they were probably 5 feet high and almost 3 feet wide, I swear to God (and ironically, they were owned by the shortest kid on campus). They get everything setup and sure enough, they get the party started.
There's probably 20 or 30 people milling around inside, watching a movie and getting blasted. It's what you might call a "target rich environment." So my best friend and I decide to penny the doors shut and trap them in. Once that was done, another dude gave me a fresh can of his spray deodorant, and I unload it into the ventilation vent next to the door. It doesn't take long for someone to notice the smell and come to investigate...Only to find the doors tightly jammed up.
Of course, everyone is ****** off now and they're in there yelling and cussing and trying to get out...But my plan isn't complete yet. I grab a big manila envelope, and spray an entire can of shaving cream inside it. Very gently I slide the mouth of the envelope under the door, then take my Math 165 book and slam it down on the body of the envelope.
In case you've never done this, what happens next is nothing short of a disaster. The shaving cream is driven from the envelope at a high rate of speed and foams up in mid-air, covering just about every inch of the inside room--and everything in it. In this case, it was about 20-odd drunk college students. I'll never forget the screaming and the colorful language...
They eventually got out, but I never did get caught...I was looooong gone and hiding quietly in my room by then. :wink:
* Being a Double-E, I knew how to program. Back in what was then the early years of the high speed ISU network, there was Project Vincent and the massive modem bank in Durham. This allowed people off-campus to dial into the network, connect to Project Vincent and check your e-mail, write and compile programs, submit class work, whatever.
Anyway, modems are nothing but computer controlled telephones...So I used to telnet into the modem bank, then write a little program on the system to dial people's numbers. When written with an infinite loop, the program would just keep dialing and dialing and dialing, until I shut it off. Naturally, the phone on the other end would ring and ring and ring until I quit my little electronic assault.
As you can imagine, this was quite frustrating to the person on the receiving end...They'd take the phone off the hook, thinking that'd do the trick, only to discover as soon as they dropped the phone back on the hook...RING!
It was a lot of fun listening to my neighbors scream at the telephone. :biggrin:
* I've got a nice collection of ISU signs...President Jischke's parking sign from out front of Beardshear, a DPS squad car parking sign from their parking lot behind the Armory, a CyRide bus stop sign, a Department of Energy "No Trespassing - Government Property" type sign from the AmesLab...You name it, I've probably got it.
You can make your own assumptions about how I got them...
* Up on West Street, behind where La Boheme (Mother's now, so I hear) is, is a dumpy old white house inhabited by Marines, nicknamed "The Bunker." One of my good friends lived there at the time and they were a gung-ho bunch of guys. Well one night, I put a Works bomb outside one of their windows and took off up West Street to watch the show. After a couple minutes, the thing exploded and no doubt shook their windows a little.
That in itself isn't all that funny, but about 10 seconds later, one of those jarheads came flying out of the front door in nothing but their whitey-tighties and carrying an AK-47, ready to kill somebody. He ran around the place, just itching to shoot the SOB that blew something up outside their place...THAT was pretty funny to watch.
* Back to Bennett House...The house down the hall from Bennett is Niles-Foster. When I was there, somehow it ended up packed full of shut-in computer nerd types; you know, guys who'd rather play Doom, Duke Nukem or Quake (the "in" games back then) than have sex. And I mean that in a nice, loving way...
So anyway, before summer break, we broke some eggs in a Tupperware container, sealed it up with the lid, and stashed them up in the attic one day when the janitor left the supply closet open when cleaning the bathrooms. There was an access hatch in the ceiling in there, and we figured our eggs wouldn't be discovered there, and would be waiting for us in the fall.
Sure enough, they were still there when we got back, and they'd baked in the summer attic heat of Friley, turning a nice dark yellow and chunky greenish color...They were nice and ripe. So in the middle of the night, we snuck down to the Niles-Foster den, pulled the bottom drawer completely out of a file cabinet in there, popped the lid off the eggs fast, dropped the container of rotten eggs into the very bottom of the cabinet, stuck the drawer back in and thus covered the now open container up. Then we got the heck outta there because it already frickin' reeked.
Several days later, after much searching, a couple of the Niles-Foster geeks come down to us and ask us to please tell them where the smell is coming from. They said they looked "everywhere" and it was driving them crazy because they couldn't use their den (which is where the cable TV was back in those days). They promised not to retaliate if we'd please, for the love of God, tell them where the smelly stuff was...
Being the nice guys we were, we did. :smile:
Anyway, I know those are sorta mild, but I think they're funny...At least they were back then. And like I and others have said, some stuff just can't be told on the Internet.
I posted this in another college story thread that got closed so it didnt get the full glory it deserved. But in the spring of 2008 my roommate bought one of those big 13 foot diameter pools with the intention of setting it up in the back yard the week of VEISHEA so lounge in and drink all week. Well, as VEISHEA came, Ames decided it was going to be cold and snowy all week so the backyard pool was out of the choice. After a few festive beverages and some poor group-think, we decided to clear out the living room and make outselves an indoor pool. Needless to say it wasn't the smartest idea but it did work and was rather awesome, even though it was still incredibly cold.
While I know this looks like there weren't any girls there, this was just as we were filling it. Once the word got out, many girls showed up
While I know this looks like there weren't any girls there, this was just as we were filling it. Once the word got out, many girls showed up
This thread is full of awesome.
I have lots of stupid things I did.
Threw multiple parties in my dorm room. By semester break I was on my last chance in the dorms and if I received another write-up I was kicked out immediately. Ironically the biggest party we threw (counted 33 in the room, and a line of 8 people outside waiting to get in like a club) never got busted.
Our group of friends made it a tradition to **** off the building that connected MWL every night we went out.
One MLKeg night I went to a party on Hunt St. Drank way way too much fireball and ended up blacking out. Apparently I ****** on the basement floor in the middle of the party and was thrown out. I was lucky the guys of the house did nothing more. Puked up and down welch. Not sure how I avoided a public intox and made it home thanks to a great group of friends.
Freshman year halloween I went as a certain doctor that just so happens to inspect female private parts. Had a name tag of "Howie Feltersnatch, M.D." with the white overcoat and everything. Anyway, my roommate and I decided it would be fun to MMA between the elevators in front of a nice crowd of at least 20 people. After the fight, a girl came up to me and saw my name tag and asked me if I was going to "inspect" her. I did.
I have lots of stupid things I did.
Threw multiple parties in my dorm room. By semester break I was on my last chance in the dorms and if I received another write-up I was kicked out immediately. Ironically the biggest party we threw (counted 33 in the room, and a line of 8 people outside waiting to get in like a club) never got busted.
Our group of friends made it a tradition to **** off the building that connected MWL every night we went out.
One MLKeg night I went to a party on Hunt St. Drank way way too much fireball and ended up blacking out. Apparently I ****** on the basement floor in the middle of the party and was thrown out. I was lucky the guys of the house did nothing more. Puked up and down welch. Not sure how I avoided a public intox and made it home thanks to a great group of friends.
Freshman year halloween I went as a certain doctor that just so happens to inspect female private parts. Had a name tag of "Howie Feltersnatch, M.D." with the white overcoat and everything. Anyway, my roommate and I decided it would be fun to MMA between the elevators in front of a nice crowd of at least 20 people. After the fight, a girl came up to me and saw my name tag and asked me if I was going to "inspect" her. I did.
I once got into a car and drove/rode 22 hours straight to Rome NY for Woodstock. Set the place on fire, and then drove home.
(Short version, because reading 5 paragraphs about something a complete stranger did just isn't that interesting.)
(Short version, because reading 5 paragraphs about something a complete stranger did just isn't that interesting.)
Passed out drunk in a bathroom stall at a Kenny Chesney concert. Woke up on the ground with 4 officers pounding on the door. In my moment of drunkeness I was thinking of a way to escape. Ended up being escorted from the concert being pushed in a wheelchair in front of everyone walking the concessions.
